A Curious Case
by SherlockianWhovian
Summary: A series of one-shots with Mycroft as a playboy.
1. Chapter 1

"Tell me again why we're visiting your brother at his home?" John said as he got out of the cab and onto the pavement outside of a large Chelsea townhouse. He looked up at the house, impressed by the size. He knew Mycroft was rich, but this grand home showed off just how rich the government official was.

"After his last visit to our flat-" Sherlock started.

"When you managed to spill acid on his trousers." John continued.

"Yes, well, he's refusing to return to the flat. He liked those trousers apparently." Sherlock laughed. He waited for John to pay the cabbie before he bounded up the steps to the front door. He knocked on the black glossy door and it was just a few moments before it opened.

"Good afternoon Mr Holmes, Dr Watson. Come inside." Anthea greeted them with a smile, stepping aside to let them in. It wasn't until they were inside that John saw what she was wearing.

"Don't stare, John." Sherlock chuckled as he saw his flatmate's reaction.

"She's only wearing lingerie and stilettos. I can't look anywhere else." John replied with a nervous laugh.

They followed Anthea into the living room, where Mycroft was sat in his armchair. He looked immaculate in his three-piece suit and was surrounded by a variety of lingerie-clad women. They all looked up when Sherlock and John entered, clearly surprised to have guests.

"Are we interrupting something?" John asked, taking in the scene before him.

"Of course not, John. Take a seat. Would you like tea? Or champagne perhaps?" Mycroft replied, looking up from his newspaper.

"Tea. Just tea." John replied stiffly, his eyes fixed on the five women that were lounging on the floor at Mycroft's feet.

"Black tea please, brother." Sherlock answered, "Do you have a case for me?"

Mycroft clicked his fingers and the five girls got up and left the living room. Anthea left too, but returned with the drinks on a silver tray.

"Have I missed something?" John asked once they were alone.

"What do you mean, John?" Mycroft said, genuine confusion on his face.

"I thought that you were gay and above caring." John replied.

Mycroft laughed, "I have room for a man to join my household, if you're interested in that sort of thing." he joked with a raised eyebrow.

John blushed bright scarlet at the suggestion, "Oh. No. Thanks though." he mumbled.

"My brother is a bisexual playboy." Sherlock explained, "He likes pleasure. He works hard, and as the saying goes, he also plays hard."

"It all began at Oxford with Sandra, Emily and Michael. I've had multiple lovers ever since." Mycroft chuckled, enjoying shocking John.

"Right..." John murmured, clearly not knowing what to think about the latest revelation from the Holmes brothers.

"Anyway, the case, brother." Sherlock prompted, sipping his tea.

"It's a rather curious case, brother mine. It's about a man who believes himself to be straight, despite his obvious attraction to his flatmate." Mycroft said completely seriously before both he and Sherlock erupted into laughter.

"Really? You brought me along here to shock me, didn't you?" John exclaimed, getting to his feet, "You're both immature! For the final time, I am not gay!"


	2. Chapter 2

"A BBQ? At Mycroft's?" John repeated with a bemused look, "Since when do you go to BBQs?"

"I always go to BBQs." Sherlock replied with a wave of his hand.

"Right..." John said with a chuckle, "And you and Mycroft are getting along now?"

"My brother and I have always been very close." Sherlock replied with fake shock at John's tone.

"You're still working on your 'case', aren't you?" John asked.

"Yes." Sherlock replied, seeing no reason to lie.

Since learning of Mycroft's lifestyle, John had been dragged along to the townhouse numerous times by Sherlock. The two of them were determined to get John to crack and to win whatever bet they'd placed. Each time he'd seen Mycroft at home; he was amazed that this playboy was the same serious government official that he was used to. Sherlock hailed a cab and they soon arrived at Mycroft's.

"You're early." Anthea said with a smile as she opened the door, "We've just got home from work." she added, almost as an excuse for wearing more clothes than just lingerie.

"Where's Mycroft?" John asked, seeing the man's coat and umbrella in the hallway.

"He's upstairs having his physiotherapy." Anthea replied, "Come on up." she added. She began up the stairs and Sherlock followed. John considered staying downstairs but he didn't want to appear awkward and uncomfortable, despite how he felt inside. They made their way through the house and to Mycroft's home gym.

"Put some clothes on, brother, my eyes are burning." Sherlock teased when he saw his brother wearing shorts and a vest.

"Be quiet, Sherlock." Mycroft muttered, his eyes closed. He was lying on his back on a mat on the floor, while his physiotherapist worked the tense muscles in his right leg. John took the opportunity to examine Mycroft while the politician's guard was down. It was strange to see him as an ordinary human man, rather than some immortal figure.

"What happened to your leg?" John asked, taking in all of the scars beneath the physiotherapist's hands.

"A mission." Mycroft replied simply, "Past injuries require further attention as middle age takes hold."

"Middle age, brother? Don't you mean old age?" Sherlock teased.

"I'm only seven years older than you, Sherlock. Middle age will grab you soon enough." Mycroft chuckled. He sat up and got to his feet once the physiotherapist had finished her work. He handed her a wad of cash and she quickly left. Aside from his severely scarred right leg, Mycroft was fit and healthy. He was slim and toned which John hadn't expected after Sherlock constantly went on about his brother's diet.

"Will you help me back to my bedroom, John? My balance is always a little off after such intense muscle stimulation." Mycroft said, his eyes focusing on John like he was the man's prey.

"Sure." John said, moving forward and helping Mycroft into the bedroom nearby. He paused a little when he saw Mycroft's 'entourage' in the bedroom. They were all in various states of undress, doing their hair and make-up for the BBQ.

"I hope you'll reconsider my offer, John." Mycroft said with a wink, "There's plenty of space in the house for you. The girls would love a handsome soldier, wouldn't you ladies?"

"Yes, Daddy." came five voices in reply.

"They call you Daddy?" John laughed, his nerves dissipating as amusement took over, "Seriously? Daddy?"

Mycroft frowned, "What? I think it's rather fitting. I am older than them." he replied in mock hurt.

"Mycroft Holmes, you never cease to amaze me." John laughed.

"I hope you'll be amazed at the BBQ. The swimming pool is filled with Moet champagne." Mycroft chuckled.

"See you downstairs, Mycroft." John said, patting the man's shoulder before he walked away.


	3. Chapter 3

Work Mycroft and Home Mycroft were two completely separate things, John noted to himself as he watched Mycroft pace like a caged animal. Gone were the playfulness, the fun and the sense of humour. It its place was cold strategy and hard logic. Sherlock had, yet again, stumbled into Mycroft's territory and caused significant problems for Mycroft's operations. Mycroft was furious with his brother but he was more interested in restoring order to his missions.

"Sacrifice the agents." Mycroft finally announced to Anthea after hours of thinking, "There is no other way to maintain our operations without causing a war. We must sacrifice the agents and claim that they are rogues."

Anthea nodded, "Yes, Sir." she said, her fingers flying over the phone's keypad.

"Yet again, brother dear, you have ruined one of my plans." Mycroft snapped, slamming his fist down onto his desk.

"Not deliberately." Sherlock muttered, looking at his own phone.

"Go home. Anthea and I can handle it from here." Mycroft said with a sigh, sitting down heavily in his office chair.

"Gladly." Sherlock said, picking up his coat and leaving the office.

"See you tomorrow then?" John said, getting to his feet.

"Tomorrow? Oh yes, of course. Dinner. Until tomorrow, John." Mycroft replied with a nod.

John pulled on his coat and left the office, following Sherlock out onto the street. He thought over his observations about Mycroft throughout the evening and the following day. Mycroft was a puzzle with a million different layers. The man was a genius and an expert in reading people. His emotions were often hidden but even when he chose to show emotion, John wasn't sure if those emotions were real or just a carefully constructed mask.

"You've been thinking about him." Sherlock stated in the cab as they travelled to Mycroft's townhouse.

"Hmm?" John murmured, shaking his head a little to pull him out of his thoughts.

"Mycroft. You've been thinking about him." Sherlock said, watching John.

"He's a mystery, a curiosity. I find him interesting." John admitted.

"Mycroft isn't remotely interesting." Sherlock replied with a frown.

"Yes, he is. He has this posh and proper persona but at home he's completely different. He's an enigma." John said.

Sherlock sighed; beginning to regret the 'case' he and his brother had taken on. He didn't want John to fall for Mycroft's tricks.

"Come inside." Mycroft said with a smile, opening the door himself this time. The government official was gone, replaced by the playboy. He ignored his brother and went straight to John. "It's lovely to see you, John." he murmured softly, taking John's coat and letting his hand linger on John's back for a little longer than necessary.

"Thanks, Mycroft." John said, moving away from the elder Holmes brother and walking to the dining room to see Anthea.

"He won't yield, you know. He's not interested in what you're offering." Sherlock said to his brother as he hung up his own coat.

"I know, but it's so fun to play with him." Mycroft replied with a wink.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and followed his brother to the dining room. They had a successful dinner, with neither of the Holmes brothers starting an argument.

"So it's just us tonight then?" John asked, sipping his wine.

"Yes, that's what I had in mind, unless you'd prefer a threesome. If so, Sherlock, are you amenable?" Mycroft said playfully, glancing at Sherlock.

John choked on his wine at the suggestion, "That's not what I meant." he coughed.

"I know what you meant." Mycroft replied with a wink and a smile, "Yes, it's just the four of us for dinner tonight. The girls are away on holiday." he added. His appearance visibly changed as his work mobile phone rang. He sat up straighter and his emotions were instantly shoved behind his mental wall. "Mycroft Holmes." he answered, getting up from the table.

John watched him go, having never seen Mycroft's separate lives interact before. He'd only ever seen Mycroft's carefully constructed personas in the settings that they were supposed to be in, so seeing the government official emerge was a surprise. He knew this side of Mycroft would never indulge in the pink champagne that the playboy loved.

"Definitely an enigma." he murmured to himself, continuing his meal.


End file.
